


not quite the north pole

by buddhaghost



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Billy Hargrove & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Good Relationship, Billy is soft for Steve only, Christmas Fluff, Hopper owns a Christmas Tree Farm, One Shot, Protective Dustin Henderson, no upside down, slight implications to child abuse... very minor though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28118340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buddhaghost/pseuds/buddhaghost
Summary: Max and El, concerned for Steve's safety, follows him and Billy into the Christmas tree farm.They didn't expect to find what they did, but hey, at least Max now knows that Billy's not an actual murderer.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	not quite the north pole

**Author's Note:**

> was feeling in the holiday spirit so I wrote this... enjoy!

Max hasn’t looked away from the trees since Billy and Steve disappeared into them.

“I’m sure he’s just helping,” El offers, not for the first time, as she follows Max’s gaze to where the boys had entered the thick rows of perfectly shaped spruces. It’s been about half an hour, and Max does _not have a good feeling about this._

“Billy doesn’t _help_ ,” she explains. “He’s a douchebag.”

“He works here,” El points out.

“Ugh, but that doesn’t mean anything to Billy,” Max defends. “He doesn’t care what the job is, he won’t do it.”

Because for as long as she’s known Billy, he’s not the type of guy to go out of his way to offer to help someone. And yeah, El’s not totally wrong in pointing out that Billy is, in fact, an employee at Hopper’s Orchard, and therefore is probably obligated to help customers find their perfect Christmas tree from time to time.

But it’s been three weeks of Billy’s seasonal employment here, and Max hasn’t seen him actually enter the orchard _once_ save for when he needs to help someone saw a tree down. Max would know; she watches from where she sits with El in the little hut with the ancient cash register and fancy chip reader. Hopper, El’s adoptive dad and owner of the biggest Christmas tree farm in the state, has just switched from cash-only to accepting cards this year, and for some reason thinks that El and Max are the only two capable of figuring out how to work the new system, so he officially made the cash register their post.

Which is how Max also got roped into a seasonal job at Hopper’s Orchard, weekends and afterschool whenever she can make it. Not that she minds; it’s nice to have some money of her own, even though Hopper pays them only eight dollars an hour because ‘it’s not legal’ and ‘they don’t really do anything, anyways’.

Which is only partly true. Much of Max’s day at Hopper’s Orchard is spent keeping a keen eye on her older brother, Billy. Ever since they moved out of Neil’s house in California and relocated in _Indiana_ of all places, he’s been acting… different. Not nicer, exactly, because Max seriously doubts Billy is capable of that, but he’s no longer… _scary_ , like he’d been for the majority of the time Max has known him. He’d always carried a sort of darkness with him, all shadowed eyes and bruised knuckles, but since they got away, it’s like he shed a layer, revealing, well, Max isn’t entirely sure. He’s just lighter.

But still, she’s suspicious. It doesn’t take _that long_ to pick out a tree. Max knows Steve a little bit, mainly from exposure through her friends Mike and Will because Steve’s friends with their older siblings, but she knows enough to know he’s _good_ , much better than Billy. She’s honestly kind of worried Billy’s killed Steve and is burying his body.

Groaning, Max sighs, collapsing in on herself as she kicks her feet against the register stand, her converse making a dull thudding sound with each strike. She supposes’ she’s lucky it hasn’t snowed yet, because she hasn’t gone shoe shopping since they moved from California, back in the early spring.

Sometimes, she’s kind of mad that Billy chose Indiana, which is pretty much as far from the sun and sand of California you could get. But then she reminds herself that she’s just glad he took her with him when he did.

“We could spy,” El offers, a sly look in her eye. Max grins back at her. El is the most recent addition to Max’s list of friends; after hearing so much about her from Mike and Dustin and Will and Lucas in her first few weeks at Hawkins Middle School, she was pretty excited to meet the other girl. Especially because back in California, Max didn’t have very many friends.

“El, you’re a genius,” Max says, grinning as she pushes herself off the stool. “But… who’s going to watch the register?” A sense of half-hearted duty washes over her at the thought of abandoning her post, mainly because she actually kind of likes Hopper and doesn’t want him to get mad at her. But then again, Steve might be dying, and Billy might a murderer…

El shakes her head, curls bouncing, and holds up a finger. She reaches under the counter, groping around for something, before withdrawing a small sign that says _be back in a minute._

“Perfect!” Max exclaims. Luckily, not many people are trying to buy a Christmas tree at four pm on a Friday, three days before Christmas. Not many people save for Steve Harrington, apparently.

Headlines for the inevitable Dateline special flash through her mind; _Ho-ho-homicide! Local boy tragically murdered in the jolliest place in Indiana._ Where will she go, once Billy either gets arrested or is on the run from the law?

A finger comes up and flicks Max in the middle of her forehead, snapping her out of her thoughts. El’s looking at her. “ _Stop_.” She orders, as if she knows Max’s spiraling thoughts. “They’re fine.”

“Believe me, I’m not worried about Billy,” Max scoffs. The sky’s gotten considerably darker since Billy and Steve disappeared into the orchard, and the air has a sharp bite to it. Max doesn’t know much about winter weather, but she feels like it might snow soon.

The two girls step into the row that Billy and Steve had headed into. The frosty needles snap beneath Max’s weight, while El seems to tread with a supernatural lightness, her own boot-clad feet not making a sound.

The world feels hushed, surrounded by the trees. Max closes her eyes, inhaling the frosty, sharp smell of pine, mingling with the indescribable smell of crisp winter air. Of the many good things that came of moving from California, Max finds Hopper’s Orchard to be in the top ten. She actually likes huddling with El at the register stand, especially when Hopper comes out and brings them hot chocolate, or when Lucas and Mike and Will and Dustin come and hang around with them. And not that she’d tell anyone, but she holds a special appreciation for these pines, the expansive acres of them, growing tall and strong and defying whatever the weather throws at them.

Yeah, it’s not the ocean, but it’s something.

El pauses suddenly, and Max follows suit. “You found them?” She asks, voice hushed. El’s a few steps ahead of her, standing between two trees, encased in the branches, and Max can’t see whatever she’s looking at.

After a moment, El withdraws from the trees, her eyes wide. “Um…” she says.

“Oh, god, what is it!” Max whispers frantically. “Don’t tell me Billy’s chopped him into little pieces by now.”

“Not quite,” El says, a note of laughter in her voice as Max shoves forwards, pushing her way through the limbs.

She stops just short of bursting out into the next row. Billy and Steve are standing a few trees down, and they’re standing _very_ close to each other. Steve’s back is to her, and Max watches, eyes growing impossibly wider, as Steve says something and Billy _laughs_.

Like, an honest-to-God _smile_ on his face. He looks like one of those angel cherub things that are splashed all over the tackier Christmas decorations, complete with the shoulder-length curls and rosy cheeks. And – no. It looks so wrong to see her brother, who’s face seems to be constantly twisted into a sneer or an expression of boredom, smiling. Happy. What the hell?

El pokes her way back into the fray, puffy jackets making their movements a bit more cumbersome, and the two girls watch as Billy brings a hand up and pushes his fingers through Steve’s hair, settling on the side of his temple, finger tracing the outer shell of his ear. It’s so _tender_ that Max wants to pull her eyeballs out and shine them up to make sure she’s seeing this correctly.

El makes a noise next to her, probably surprise, as the boys exchange a few more words. Max can’t hear what they’re saying; their voices are hushed, words lost in the mist rising with every breath. And then Steve takes Billy by the back of the neck and leans down and –

“Max!” El yelps, jumping backwards and yanking Max with her. She’s got a smile on her face, mouth opened in the giddy-like shock of seeing something you’re probably not supposed to see. Max is sure she’s got a similar expression on her face, and they both lean on each other simultaneously, dissolving into soundless laughs.

“We gotta go,” Max gasps out. “Billy will _kill us_ if he knew we saw that!”

El nods, still laughing, and grabs Max’s arm, and Max stumbles after her, mind positively spinning. Billy and Steve? Kissing? In a Christmas tree farm? Max would’ve sooner expected to see Santa Claus coming down the chimney.

“Wait till we tell the boys about this,” Max jokes. “Dustin will _lose his mind_.”

But even as she revels in having the chance to humiliate Billy, she can’t get over how… carefree he’d seemed. Gazing at Steve with the softest look in his eye.

It’s nice, Max supposes, to know Billy’s capable of that. Being soft. She smiles to herself as she and El burst back into the parking lot, hustling back to their abandoned post at the register. Billy deserves it, and Steve is so nice, probably _too_ nice actually; she can’t begin to fathom when _that_ started. 

Maybe it’s the holiday spirit. The new town. The chains that bind Billy and Max to California growing weaker with every passing day, making it seem like anything is possible.

Max settles herself back on the stool, El doing the same beside her. Snowflakes, small and delicate, have started falling, and Max tilts her head up, closing her eyes to let the wind brush them gently onto her face.

“We probably shouldn’t tell them that we saw them,” she says after a moment. “Like, ever.”

“No,” El agrees solemnly.

“But… that doesn’t mean we need to make life easy for them,” Max says, eyes still closed, still grinning. El hums, and Max sighs in contentment. This is going to be _so fun_ to hang over Billy’s head.

They’ll have to be smart about it, of course. She can’t reveal what she knows, not outright. She’s got to play with his head, make him _think_ she knows something, drive him insane with speculation. Oh yes, this is going to be fun. Quite possibly the best Christmas ever.

(Of course, it all goes to hell when they tell the boys. Dustin goes white as a sheet, shrieking, like Max told him she’d seen Steve murder Dustin’s cat. Though Dustin loves Steve so much, he probably would let the older boy get away with it.

And when they’re all at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment and he sees Billy and Steve together, the day after Christmas, Dustin doesn’t waste any time marching up to them. Max watches, half amused, half horrified, as Dustin jabs his finger in Billy’s face, spitting wild threats. Giving her brother _the shovel talk_.

“He’s going to die,” Lucas mutters into her ear, gripping her upper arm and half hiding behind her as if he’s expecting Billy to go feral and attack all of them. Max watches Billy’s face, first bemused, sink slowly into something like a snarl, but it’s so much _tamer_ than what Max is used to. Her eyes drop down to where Steve’s threaded his fingers with Billy’s.

“I don’t think so,” Max says, and laughs at the dumbstruck expression on Dustin’s face as Steve turns towards her brother, gently guiding Billy’s face towards his as he captures Billy’s lips with his.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! have a lovely day<3


End file.
